


the Move In

by WaltzQueen



Series: Dream Mom [1]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, POV Second Person, Trans Female Character, craig is from Cali
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltzQueen/pseuds/WaltzQueen
Summary: You and Amanda move in and go to a BBQ





	the Move In

The moving Van is gone. The boxes are inside and the curtains are already drawn when the knocking at the door happens. After a long moment of tension the knocking stops. Good.

With the knocking over for a long minute you slowly nudge the edge of the curtain aside. There's no movement near the door and the only neighbor out is mowing their lawn and turning a corner around their house. You can see a brightly colored flyer in the door. Damn, advertisers were just getting faster and faster these days. But also there's a plate covered in saran wrap. Looks like a bomb, sitting there all faux-innocently. You close your eyes and shake your head. It's just a plate, control yourself, Gene. You look back at the plate and flyer.  Looks a lot more normal, like it's not a bomb. Which it probably isn't. It was probably some old lady trying to welcome you to the neighborhood. No dice old lady, only shut-ins here.

You spot the neighbor with the lawnmower coming back around the corner. Red headed, beard, socks with sandals, just some person. They aren't looking your way, or at least not obviously. You decide to play it safe and wait. They dally in the front yard for a minute, putting more gas in, priming the mower and pulling the cord before making their way around the other side. With them safely out of sight and no one else in the area you slowly open the door and pull the flyer through the crack, followed the probably-not-a-bomb. Once inside with the door between you and them, you release a cloud of nervous giggles. You must have looked like a cat sticking their paw into an illicit bowl of cereal. It's a shame you don't have actual cat paws. You'd have toe-beans of your very own.

You open the not-bomb with your not-paws. You are rewarded for your daring with the blessed scent of cookies. Delicious wheat and butter and presumably some other stuff, but mostly sugar. You quietly fist pump and toss your long hair back behind your shoulder. Score!

You flop down on the couch with a a lap full of deliciousness. You worked very hard for these cookies you're going to enjoy this. You raise one to your mouth just in time for Amanda to swoop in like a chicken hawk and pluck every other cookie off the plate while you're distracted. You don't even have time to react before she is scampering back to her new room, spiriting the cookies away with a jaunty "love you!"  You'd be mad if you weren't so proud. That's your 'Manda Panda.

It's only then, with an empty styrofoam place of crumbs and a half eaten cookie that you look at the colorful paper. A backyard barbecue?

  
"A BBQ?"you hear right next to your ear.

  
"Fuck!" You jump sky high, propelling the scant crumbs on the plate into the air and down your shirt. When your heart finally calms enough for rational thought to wrest control from animal panic you look over to see Amanda, with the flyer in her hand.

"Sorry,sorry." Manda frowns and puts her puts her hand on your shoulder. "Didn't mean to startle you."

You decide to play it off. "It's fine, I thought I had died and gone to heaven from those cookies, I thought you were your grandma here to haunt me for breaking her china" Amanda smiles and laughs.

"Wouldn't she be in the hot place?"

"Yes, well... We probably shouldn't say that.

"Probably not." Amanda looks back down to flyer in her hands. "So....barbecue?"  You don't really want to go, but Amanda's giving you her hopeful face and moving has been stressful on you both. Maybe this is just what the both of you need, a nice neutral chance to unwind and eat someone else's food.

"Fine, but if we're bringing any food you're making it."

"Done and done." She gives you a little smooch on the cheek and finger guns her away out of the room. So resign yourself to interacting with a bunch of strangers in a couple hours. Fun. You sigh and take your shirt off. At least you can get rid of these cookie crumbs,  
  
The backyard barbecue is so picturesque you almost can't stand it. There are people standing around in groups while kids wrestle and lay with toys in ways that the manufactures probably didn't intend. You're aware you're lurking in the door like some kind of spy, but the idea of just wading into this sea of humanity is daunting at best. The person working the grill spots you and Amanda and her bag of Danger Hot chips. You make eye contact on accident. They're walking this way. Oh god, Oh god, oh god.

Amanda puts her hand on your arm and you look down at her. "It's okay," she says. "I'll introduce us." Bless this girl and her spicy snacks.

"Hi! You must be the new neighbors." He puts out his hand for a friendly shake and you feel your heart seize a little. Your deodorant struggles against the sudden cold sweat you have just developed. It might be losing. Thankfully, Amanda intercepts like a pro. She gives the stranger's arm a powerful shake, nice and firm to assert her dominance.

"Hey, I'm Amanda Riverswell and this is my mom, Gene."

You watch as the stranger looks you up and down. Does he see the adams apple under your fashionable scarf? Is he noticing the muscular legs peeking from under your skirt? Is he noting your broad shoulders and tiny hips? If he is he doesn't say anything about it.

"Nice to meet you, Gene. I'm Joseph, the local youth pastor." He smiles and extends his hand again and you do your best not to flinch. Amanda performs another interception as his hand gets close to you.

"I have snacks, "she says shoving the party size bag of Danger Hots into his palm and standing in front of you like a shield. You're getting her a pony for Christmas. And a car.

Luckily, Joseph seems to take the hint this time. "Welcome to the neighborhood, and enjoy the party." He trots back along to his barbecue, blue cardigan swinging back and forth.

You and Panda release a set of matching deep sighs, letting go of the initial tension. That went better than you hoped. "Thanks Panda."

"No prob, bob." She pauses a beat. "Is that still okay for me to say? You won't get sad or anything if-"

"Manda, it's fine. I know you're not calling me a man. You wouldn't do that on purpose." You both smile at each other. This is too emotional for a cook out. Quick, kill the moment. "Not when I can hold embarrassing baby pictures over your head."

"Hey!" You're both still laughing. You're feeling a lot better about this cook out. "I'm going to go talk to people. You cool without me for a while?"

"Go on, Amanda." You roll your eyes teasingly. "Go fly away like a social butterfly." Away she goes, soaring on the wings of extroversion and youth. God you're jealous. Now, you're going to stand as close to the snack table as you can be without talking to anyone.

The plan works for a few minutes. People are talking to each other. Kids are distracting adults. But then you hear a voice behind you. "Hi, you must be the new neighbor." You recognize that voice.

"Craig?" Sure as sin, there is Craig Cahn, standing there with a piece of broccoli from a veggie platter and ripped to hell and back. WOW.  Craig's friendly smile drops into an expression of puzzlement.  The broccoli dangles dangerously in his hand as the other hand scratches his neck. You thought you looked pretty similar to your old look and honestly how long it's taking Craig is pretty reassuring. Craig thinks for another moment. You can see when the light-bulb goes on.  
"Eugene Riverswell?" His face lights up, like a puppy with a wagging tail. It dims somewhat when you wince at being called Eugene.

"Actually, it's just Gene, now." And, say what you will about Keg-Stand Craig, but he puts the pieces together in record time and smiles apologetically.

"Sorry br-uhh, Gene. Would it be rude to-Aw! My broccoli." Well, so much for that mini tree. You reach over to the half empty veggie platter and grab him a new broccoli. "Thanks dude. Um I mean.. Is it cool if i say dude or is that not cool?" Bless his Californian cotton socks.

"Dudette might be better."

"Dudette it is, Sis!" And just like that Craig has made the barbecue and the whole state a better place.

**Author's Note:**

> Potentially first in a series.


End file.
